"Now boarding flight 608 to San Francisco, California. Now boarding..."

The woman's bubbly voice echoed around the tired passengers and drifted over her, digging her out of her nervous thoughts.

"...Now boarding all passengers. Please have your identification and tickets ready."

She stood on her tired legs and dragged her heavy bag with her over to the waiting line.

Once she stood before the redheaded woman she held out her ticket and passport, "Velia, what a beautiful name."

She had pronounced it wrong but over the years Velia had become used to Veela, Viola, Velee and even the occasional veeleea so she muttered a quiet thank you and tugged at her long sleeve shirt until she was allowed to move forward

"You're all set. Please proceed inside and find your seat."

Taking her ticket back she walked behind the other passengers until she found her seat near the back of the plane. After stowing her bag she curled into her seat and did her best to stare out the window to calm her nerves.

A voice startled her and she met the tired eyes of an awkward older man as he took a seat next to her, "Hello."

He shoved a bag between his legs and then gave her a quick once over

"I'm Velia."

"Why are you on this plane?" He asked

She felt taken back by his forwardness and inched away as far as her seat would allow, "Got a job." She was lying, she didn't have one yet but she would soon, hopefully.

He blatantly looked at her chest as he spoke, "Hmm, teacher? Or some kind of whore?"

"Excuse me?" She asked, trying to use her arms to cover herself. Even with her comfy clothes covering every inch nothing seemed to make her invisible.

"Teacher then." he grinned creepily and turned away

Her mouth was hanging open now, completely shocked, but he was already done with their brief conversation. He turned away from her and got comfortable in his seat while she was still trying to process.

She had just been called a whore. By a man, she had only just met and she didn't know if she should feel offended or treat it as a compliment that he thought she was pretty enough to make a living having sex.

He must be from an older generation to think that kind of talk was okay with a stranger he'd just met. Velia let her eyes take him in. He was wearing a worn-out black and gray flannel, dirty blue jeans and black boots.

He looked like a serial killer or a biker.

Her eyes fell to his bag now and she managed to read his last name, Bachman.

His first name must be George or maybe Stephen. Something fit for an older man.

The flight attendants began speaking then, breaking her out of the little game she had created. They droned on and on about flight safety, exits and turning phones off that eventually Veila laid her head down against the window and drifted off through take off.

Faceless bikers and weird serial killers with large boots haunted her dreams. They stalked her classroom and stole away her kiddos while she was tied to her chair. In her dreams, she had no voice to scream for help and that seemed to fuel her anxieties more than the large scary biker men.

When a hand closed around her throat her body was shaken awake by her weird and creepy seatmate.

"We're landing," he grunted out

"Oh, the- thanks."

He looked at her for a moment, "You snore."

"I do not."

He smirked, "You do. You were sleeping on my shoulder."

"Oh," Veila felt her blush creeping, "Sorry."

The plane jerked and an announcement let them know that they were descending. She couldn't help but fidget while they waited, feeling nervous as her destination finally neared.

Her mother would be so proud of her for finally branching out and leaving New York City. For finally leaving the family.

Her father on the other hand would have been trying to keep her home and when that failed he would have insisted that she bring someone with her to keep her safe.

At least they would have been saying all these things if they hadn't died in a fire at their favourite movie theatre years ago on a spontaneous date night.

Every day for weeks Veila cursed herself for not doing something, anything to keep them home that night, but her older brother insisted that there was nothing she could have done.

It wasn't until three weeks ago, with her therapist, that she realized that he was right. There was nothing she could have done, so instead of sitting around with her brother as they tried to manage the family business, she decided to take her life's savings and a very large and generous inheritance she was left by her parents and move across the country.

Her brother didn't approve but he quickly gave in when she promised to keep in touch and visit often.

She wasn't even moving to a big city, she was going to a nice little town. She had already found an adorable house near the main street and with three schools nearby she should be able to find a job no problem.

"Come on. Before they kick us off the damn plane."

His voice startled her but she followed his lead and grabbed her bag anyways. Following him out of the airport was a breeze, no one wanted to look him in the eyes so they received a large berth all the way to the taxi pick up.

From there it was easier, she was able to hail a taxi like a professional. With her limited luggage, it was a snap to get in and be on her way.

The drive was difficult though. It was two hours of bad country music and a driver who couldn't take a hint. Small talk was already a pain but forced small talk in a cramped car was worse. There was no escape, nowhere to go, and because she was in a new state she didn't want to risk pissing him off and end up stranded on the side of the road.

By the time she saw the sign for Charming they had already talked about his five kids, his wife he wasn't attracted to anymore and his new mistress who had 'a banging bod'.

"Turn left here. It should be the little green one on the corner." She told her driver, interrupting his rant about lax immigration threatening his job.

"Alright. We're here. It was a wonderful ride with you, miss. I don't even think I should charge you, it was the best drive I've had in a long time." he gave her a suggestive look in the mirror and smiled

Velia looked at him flatly and after a few minutes of awkward silence he spoke again, "Two hundred ninety-five."

She took out three hundred and handed it to him before jumping from the vehicle.

He muttered under his breath as she walked away but the only word she could catch was 'whore'.

Twice in one day, maybe she needed a career change.

Quickly her day changed for the better. Her new house was beautiful, 10703, there was never a more beautiful place, and it was all hers.